You, I think," Ellie said. "When I painted him, he was just... an ideal." An... ideal? Your ideal?" The concept seemed strange to me, on several level.... First of all, the young man in the portrait was pleasant-looking. He looked sweet-natured, peaceable -- even handsome. He was the kind of young man that three waitresses, in a small cafe, might giggle over, behind the cash register, as he drank his morning coffee and read the sports pages of the local paper.But... an ideal? Hardly! It was a. It wasn’t my finest hour.How could I make things right?RORY SHIFTED ON THE sofa and winced. She was sore. Out of the corner of her eye, she studied Ethan. He was behaving weirdly. Was he disappointed with her? She knew he’d cum. She’d felt it; his erection swelling and pulsing inside her and his groans of pleasure. She’d felt him soften inside her, too.Rory shifted again. Unbelievably, despite being sore, she felt a stir of arousal. She wasn’t a virgin anymore! Rory smiled to herself. She had a. More

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